


Seeing in Darkness

by NoelleTuttle



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blindness, Dragons, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 09:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5579660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleTuttle/pseuds/NoelleTuttle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nords get worried when a blind man begins swinging about a sword. They get really nervous when that blind man begins throwing lighting and fire about him. But Armandur isn’t one to sit at home rapped in a blanket in front of the fireplace, not when there adventures for glory and honour to be found. But the dragons have returned and Skyrim is in need of a hero to save it. Armandur is the Dragonborn, and has to fight flying dragons. A difficult process for a man who can’t see, but he’s Skyrim only hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Who are you?” the Imperial solider asked with a confused tone. The Nord standing before was only a finger length taller than the imperials. But through the rags thick ripping muscle showed. His hair was the typical nordic blonde but the colour of gold that was combed back over his head and braided. Lines of blood-red war paint crossed his eyes in an ‘x’. This made his milky white eyes standout in an eerie way.

“Armandur Thorirsson,”

“You picked a bad time to come home kin’s man. Captain what do we do? He’s not on the list, and he’s also . . . Blind,” the Imperial solider replied sheepishly. Armandur sighed inwardly, people always got awkward when they knew about his disability. But he got no sympathy from the hard imperial woman who ordered him to be executed with the other criminals. 

“I’m sorry at least you’ll die here in your homeland,” the Imperial solider replied trying to be sympathetic. “Follow the captain prisoner, “a rough hand grabbed him and moved Armandur toward the group standing before the execution block. 

Armandur stood rigid, his head was still ringing from being hit from behind and could still feel the blood crusting in his hair. He was still figuring out what was going on. He was trying to make his way home after being away fighting. He used his gift with magic to weave a spell that allowed him to detect life and allowed him to sense the world around him. Travelling while blind is difficult enough, but with bandits and thieves on the road, Armandur decided it was best that he tracks through the woods. He had taken a break by a rock as a group of men passed him. Suddenly there were sounds of fighting and Armandur had tried to leave quietly. Then he was hit from behind, probably with a rock because he hadn’t sensed anyone.

He had awakened to the rocking motion of a wagon and felt his hand bound before him. The kind voice of a man spoke to him about an ambush, and Ulfric Stormcloak. Had he heard right? Then he was caught in an incident between the Stromcloaks and the Imperials. 

“Ulfric Stormcloak, some people in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn’t use his voice to murder his king and usurp his throne. You started this war, flung Skyrim into chaos. Now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace,” an Imperial declared with authority. Suddenly a distant roar echoed through Helgen startling Armandur. Armandur had never heard anything like it and he shut his eyelids to it wouldn’t be noticed when he used his spell. He sensed only the large crowd of people in Helgen, but something still didn’t feel right. 

All around him people shouted and argued. This wasn’t good at all. He was going to be killed regardless of his loyalties. The last rites were being said as a too eager or foolish man stepped up to the execution block demanding them to get it over with. Armandur flinched as he heard the sound an axe cutting through flesh before hit the wood of the choking block. 

“Next the Nord in the rags,” the harsh woman called, and Armandur hoped she wasn’t talking about him. Then the roar echoed again sending a chill down his spine. 

“I said next prisoner!”

“To the block prisoner, nice and easy,” the gentle voice of the imperial said. Armandur bound hands were tugged forward as he was moved to the block and forced to sit and lie his head on the still wet wood. Armandur heart thudded in his chest he could feel the killing intent of the executioner loam over him. Armandur true to his stubborn Nord nature, clenched his teeth and began a spell to blow them all away. He refusing to die for no reason.

Then the roar sounded closer and a man cried out, “What in Oblivion is that?” The ground shock and Armandur activated his life sensing spell. He found him being stared at by the largest being he had ever sensed, a dragon. It mere presence was enormous, brimming with life and power. The dragon roared but not a normal roar, but a call of magic and power. It caused the world to swirl around Armandur and knocked him of his feet. 

That was when the world fell into chaos.

“Hey kinsmen, get up! Come on, the Gods won’t give us another chance!” Armandur heard the kind Nord voice calling him. In desperate dash Armandur ran toward his voice tripping slightly as the ground shock with impact. He ran into the door frame and gentle hands pulled him into the shelter of a building. The door shut behind him muffling the sounds of chaos from outside. 

“Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?” asked the kind Nord.

“What did he say his name was? Ralof . . . I think,” Armandur thought as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Legends don’t burn down villages,” replied Ulfric. Armandur was surprised how calm he sounded, and his voice alone commanded authority. 

“We need to move now!” Ulfric commanded, “Up through the tower!” He heard the men around him rush up the stair beside him. Armandur took a second to begin his life detecting spell again and get a bearing on his environment. When he did follow the man, he assumed was Ralof up the stairs the walls of the towers blew in.

“Get back!” Armandur knelt on the stairs staring in horror as the dragon flame scorched the two men that had gone up the stairs before him. The glows of their life light were consumed by the dragon’s fire. As suddenly as the dragon had appeared, it leaped off the tower into the air. 

Ralof peered through the opening the dragon made and said “See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going.”

“No, I can’t see the inn,” Armandur though darkly. But unable to think of any other solution, Armandur made a leap of faith and thanked the Gods when his feet hit wood. The smell of smoke filled his nose and he could taste soot in the air. The inn was on fire, but then again what wasn’t? He sensed an opening in the floor and jumped down. He got out the burning building as fast as he could. In the clearing he could hear the orders of an imperial as he gathered survivors around him. Armandur headed toward the group, sensing that they were a child and an older man. Then he sensed the dragon again as it landed and scorched the area before taking off again. 

He felt the imperial grab his arm, “Still alive prisoner? Stick close to me if you stay that way!” Armandur didn’t argue with him, tracking the dragon as it circles Helgen looking for a new target. The imperial named Hadvar, nearly pulled him off his feet when he went charging off. Armandur followed close behind and noticed the dragon coming down again. 

“Stay close to the wall!”, Hadvar ordered, and Armandur didn’t need to be told twice as the dragon landed on the wall, it wing just inches from his face. The dragon fire was so close he could feel it heat on his face and the smell of brimstone filled his nostrils. 

“Quickly follow me,” Hadvar grabbed his arm again and Armandur was forced to trail behind tripping on bodies. Not that he didn’t appreciate that the imperial was kind enough to care for the blind and tied up prisoner, but it was inconvenient to be dragged around. Armandur felt the magical energies of the mages as the imperial fought the dragon. Hadvar continued to drag him away as he was ordered into the keep.

“Ralof! You traitor! Out of my way,” cried Hadvar as he let go of Armandur’s arm.

“We’re escaping, Halvar. You’re not stopping us this time,” replied Ralof. 

“Fine, I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde.” 

Armandur was in increasing terror as the dragon drove right over the two arguing men, taking a guard right off the wall and dropping him from a hundred of feet in the air. Armandur watched in horror as the distant light winked out and yelled, “Is this really the time and place for this?”

Ralof ran into the keep calling, “You! Come on into the keep!”

Hadvar charged off toward another door, ordering “With me, prisoner.”

Not willing to become a prisoner again he followed Ralof into the keep. Armandur found Ralof kneeling next to a corpse, morning his comrade. Armandur could sense that the last remaining spark if life lingering on the man.

“Looks like we’re the only ones that made it,” Ralof began to talk and nervously about the dragon. But Armandur was just glad he could finely take a breath, and thought, “At least I can take a moment before the end of the world.” That thought didn’t sit well with Armandur, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it.

“We need to get moving. Come here. Let me see if I can get those bindings off you,” he said and Armandur felt him cut his bindings. He thanked Ralof, rubbing his sore wrists as he had been straining against them this entire time. Ralof instructed him to take the armour of his fallen comrade. It took a couple of moments but he managed to feel his way to the corpse and struggled to find the clasps. 

“What are you doing? Hurry,” Ralof urged, “Someone’s coming,”

Armandur heard the voices and footsteps and decided to leave the body. He grabbed the axe and hid by the door with Ralof.

“What are you...”Ralof didn’t have any time to say anything else because the Imperials had reached the gate. As soon as, the imperials were through the gate Armandur torched them. Ralof ended the imperials with a few quick strikes. 

“Maybe one of these imperials’ has the key,” Ralof said turning to search the other body. Armandur hesitated long enough for Ralof to take notice.

“What is it?” asked Ralof. Armandur shock his head then mutely knelt down and felt the body for a key hoping to find it on the imperial’s belt. 

Then he felt Ralof kneel beside him, saying, “The key is right here. Wait. . . are you blind?” He could feel Ralof eyes studying him, and he wish he wouldn’t. Now he would cuddle him, and they couldn’t afore that. So Armandur stood up and went to the gate. 

“If we have the key them lets press forward before the dragon destroys this place as well,” Armandur said boldly.

“Lets go,” Ralof said as he put the key in the gate and sung it open with a loud creak.


	2. Chapter 2

“Wait!” Ralof cried as the dragon flew over and into the distant beyond Armandur’s detection   
spell. “There it goes. Looks like it gone for good.”

Armandur pulled back his hood and felt the cool mountain breeze hit his face. The cold never bothered the Nord and Armandur was just glad he could breathe the clear mountain air again. He hated the close feeling of caves. He leaned heavily on the war hammer he had picked up during the fighting. 

“ No way of knowing if anyone made it out alive. This place will soon be swarming with imperials soon enough. Better clear out,” Ralof said as he walked beside Armandur. “My sister Gerdur owns a mill in Riverwood. She would happily help you out.”

“I appreciate that. I’ve lost my way since the imperials knocked me out,” Armandur said. He tilted his head up to the sky and felt the sun rays on his face. He could hear the birds singing around him. “It still afternoon, hopefully we can make it to your sister place before night comes.”

“How did you . . . ? Never mind. Riverwood isn’t far from here just down the path.” 

“Then lead the way.”

Ralof leaded them down the path at a leisurely pace, pausing if Armandur slowed down, and glancing back to make sure Armandur was still following. Armandur used the war hammer as a guide feeling for rocks and roots in his path that may trip him. Armandur startled Ralof when he blasted a wolf that had just jumped over the ridge to attack them. Then he suddenly caught a blue butterfly that had passed close to him. Ralof was still wondering about his strange companion when they entered Riverwood.

Armandur pulled the hood of his robe over his head, shadowing his eyes from shocking the villagers and to keep from beginning recognized. Ralof touched Armandur shoulder and guided him away from the village centre. Armandur could hear the sound of a running water, and the sound of a saw as it cut cleanly through wood. This must be mill Ralof was talking about. A woman called out to Ralof, and began fussing over him. Armandur figured that his woman was Gerdur, Ralof’s sister. With his spell he could only see the figure of a woman full of life but no details of her image. Which didn’t matter to Armandur, since losing his sight he had discovered that appearances don’t matter.

“Is this one of your comrades?” She addressed Armandur. He knew she was measuring him up.

“Not a comrade in arms yet. He’s a friend. He saved my life”

“If I remember right you also saved my life,” Armandur replied. In the short moments of fleeing and fighting with Ralof at his side, Armandur had become attached to th Nord. 

“Is there somewhere we, can talk? There’s no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the imperials,” Ralof asked urgently.

“Helgan, has something happened? You’re right. Come this way,” Gerdur said as she leads them away from the mill. She called out to a man on the platform of the mill.

“What is it, woman? Sten drunk on the job again?” a man voice called down to them. “Ralof, what are you doing here? I’m coming.” Gerdur leads them to a spot by the river. The sound of rushing water filling Armandur ears. 

“Uncle Ralof!” a young boy followed by a barking hound came running up to join them. Ralof easily dealt with the excited youth easily, sending him to watch the road so that they could talk.

“Ralof, what are you doing here? You two look very done in,” stated Gerdur Husband as he joined them.

Ralof sat down with a sigh, saying, “I don’t remember when I last slept. Where to start?” Ralof began discussing the events at Helgen. Armandur sat down on a rock near by and finally released his spell. He was drained from having to use so many spells for so long, and tilted his head back to breathe in deeply as his magic restored itself. Armandur yelped as something hit him and he stood up with fire in his hands.

“It’s just a waterskin,” Gerdur said as she bent down to pick up the fallen waterskin. Armandur snuffed out the flames and held out his hand but not reaching for the skin. Gerdur placed the waterskin in his hand. She looked under his hood and saw his milky white eyes.

“You really can’t see anything can you?” Ralof asked. 

“I thought you already knew this,” Armandur replied taking a mouth full of water, “Or did you doubt that I was.”

“I didn’t think you were really blind. I mean I saw you running and fighting. You were throwing fire around me . . . ” Ralof voice trailed off at the revelation that just happened. “You shot that bear with my bow. How can you do all that if your blind?”

Armandur sighed, he had wanted to avoid the topic of magic around the Nords, and said“I am truly and completely blind. But I use a magic spell that allows me to sense the world around me. It a bit different than seeing but it my only choice. I mean I’d be dead without it.”

Ralof looked surprised, “Magic can do that? It can make you able to see again.”

“Not really, it only works while I have the spell active. So I not cured, but at least it allows me to travel and fight,” Armandur admitted as he stood up leaning against the war hammer he picked up during the fighting.

“I don’t want to trouble you or your family. But the imperials maybe following and we are fugitives as far as they are concerned.”

“Nobody else has come up the south road as far as I know,”

“Good maybe we can lay up a while,” Ralof said. “I hate to put your family in danger.”

“Nonsense,” Gerdur said firmly. “You and your friend are welcome. We can easily find the two of you in your home. Let me worry about the imperials. We can easily pass your friend of as cousin of yours. He looks just like you, Ralof, except handsomer. Your friend . . . I just realized we haven’t been introduced.” 

“Armandur Thorirsson. Thank you for the water, ma’am.” 

“Any friend of Ralof is a friend of mine.” Gerdur stated, placing an apple in Armandur hand. “Here’s the key to the house. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

“Can you point me in the direction of Whiterun?” Armandur asked.

“Yes; follow the path across the bridge then turn Northeast. After that follow the road and you can easily reach it,” Gerdur explained. “ If you are going to Whiterun, then there something you can do for me. The Jarl needs to know that there’s a dragon about so he can muster his forces.”

“Yes, I can do that,” Armandur agreed. 

“I need to get back to work,”

“Thanks sister. I knew we could count on you,” Ralof stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“I’ll let them into the house . . . and show them where everything is,” said Hod sheepishly.

Unconvinced Gerdur replied, “Hmm, help them drink up our mead you mean.”

“Don’t worry about me. I know how to lay low,” Ralof said following Hod. Armandur brought up the rear silently, wanting a bed more than any mead.


	3. Chapter 3

Armandur spent the night with Ralof and his family, enjoying a simple Nord cook meal for the first time in months. Imperial food had alway had too many spices for his taste. The young boy, Frodnar, continuously interrogated Ralof and Armandur about the dragon until his mother hushed him. Armandur spun tales around the fire, bringing the family far away places. 

Ralof and Hod drank themselves into sleep each snoring in their seats by the fire. Gerdur criticized them while they were conscious but as soon as they were as sleep she gently rapped blankets around them. Since Ralof was sleeping in the chair Armandur was able to take the bed. Despite how tired he felt he lay awake listening to the sounds of the sleeping family around him. Armandur felt warm in the house, but he thought that warmth came more from the kind family than the hearth. He fell into a peaceful sleep. 

Armandur awoke after dawn to find most of the family awake and out of the house. Except for Ralof who had been moved from the table to the empty bed and was snoring contently. Armandur found the food left for him by Gerdur, and filled his pack with her generosity. Before leaving he had to stop at the Riverwood trader. Ralof had said it was own by an imperial named Lucan Valerius and his sister, Camilla. Not that Ralof was bothered by that, as all traders dealt with money, and Lucan had proved himself a shrewd negotiator. Armandur had stepped in the trader shop and into an argument. 

"I said no! No adventures, no theatrics, no thief-chasing! Oh, a customer. Sorry you had to hear that." Armandur nodded at him and placed his gear on the table. The trader informed him about what had happen in the night. A thief had broken in and stolen a strange object of the shop, a metal claw. Armandur didn’t really care, he just wanted to get rid of the equipment he had been hauling around for some coin.

Armandur had kept his hood up the entire time so the trader didn’t see his eyes, and asked if Armandur was willing to take back the claw. Armandur agreed hoping to get a deal on his gear in going to retrieve it. He felt the insignia on the coins to identify their amounts. The he used the coin to buy some potions and spell books that Lucan had on hand. Listened to the two argue, as he took his books and potion, placing them in his pack, figuring that they were true siblings. 

"Oh really? Well I think your new helper here needs a guide." Camilla declared loudly. Armandur figure that this was just to spite her brother, but didn’t complain. 

"Wh- no... I.... Oh, by the Eight, fine. But only to the edge of town!" Lucan gave in to his sister throwing his hands up. 

She complain loudly about the protectiveness of her brother as they walked together. But Armandur could hear the fondness in her voice and knew she didn’t mean her words. 

"Now, if you're going to get those thieves, you should head to Bleak Falls Barrow, northeast of town." Camilla explained. She left him at the bridge and directed him down the left road that led up the mountain. Armandur stood at the crossroad contemplating his options. He had promised to inform the Jarl of Whiterun about the dragons. But the prospect of a ruin and adventure made his nordic blood sing.

A reckless smile crossed his face, as he thought, “What’s a little detour.” So he began tracking up the mountain using the war hammer spike end to climb the snowy slope. 

\-----

Armandur had been rather disappointed with Beak Fall Barrow. There had been bandits and dangerous beasts, but nothing to compared to what Armandur had heard about the place. Armandur left smoldering corpses behind him, and the smell of burning flesh followed him. In the enclosed space of the cavern he was starting to get revolted. 

He decided to take out one of the spell books he had bought. Armandur placed his hand on the book and activated his mana. The book disappeared beneath his hand and he felt the knowledge of the Frost spell fill his mind. Spell books had a always been convenient for him since he didn’t actually have to read them. But they were always more expensive because it took a mage to make them. He headed deeper in to the ruins. 

"Is... is someone coming? Is that you Harknir? Bjorn? Soling? I know I ran ahead with the claw, but I need help!” he heard a voice calling out. As he neared it he felt spider webs beneath his hands blocking his path. 

Armandur felt the web quiver in as he burned them away. He sensed a giant spider above him lying in wait, and Armandur stepped into the spiders nest. He shot fire st the spider as it descended, the creature screak making his ears hurt. As the spider burned, Armandur stepped up to the flailing legs and bashed the creatures head in with the war hammer. It made a satisfying crunch and then the spider collapse to the ground.

“You did it. You killed it. Now cut me down before anything else shows up.” the man voice called. Armandur reached him and discovered him cover in spider webs, which clung to his hand. 

“Where's the golden claw?”

“Yes, the claw. I know how it works. The claw, the markings, the door in the Hall of Stories. I know how they all fit together! Help me down, and I'll show you. You won't believe the power the Nords have hidden there.” the thief negotiated. Armandur knew he had to be cut down of he was to get the claw, so he hacked through the web. The thief fell to the ground and laughed at him, as he ran down the passage that was hidden behind the webs.

Armandur sighed, “That’s gratitude for you.” He followed the distant echoes of the thief steps as he followed him deeper into the ruins. 

Then a scream bounced off the walls and Armandur entered a chamber of stone to find the thief dying on the ground. He heard the gears of a trap rewind themselves and knew the thief had fallen into a trap. Suddenly all around him he heard the distant clattering of the bones, as draugr rose from their shelves. 

“Now this was more like it,” Armandur said with glee. He dropped his war hammer and began duel wielding fire and ice. 

After the last draugr bone stopped rolling, Armandur searched the thief body find the claw. It was indeed metal, and cool beneath his hands. What he found interesting was the strange symbols on the palm of the claw. Armandur contemplated going back he, had the claw. But what the thief had said about a hidden nordic treasure made him curious. He had found the thief journal but that was useless to him so he threw it away in disgust. He figure out what the thief was talking about when he got to the end. 

So he proceed forward encountering draugr and draugr. Not to mention more traps that continued to block his path. He enjoyed the puzzle that he found feeling the similar carvings as he searched the room with his hands. Armandur began knocking his war hammer against the ground and humming to himself. He hadn’t had so much entertainment since he became blind. Everyone seemed determined to keep him out of danger, but never really helping him. But now he could move freely and he hoped the catacombs would just keep going. 

But of course he hit a dead end. He felt the wall carvings and discovered a marking in the shape of the claw. Armandur slid the claw in openings but nothing happened. Then he found carvings of animals which moved under his hand. They were similar to those markings on the claw. So he lined them up in the order that was on the claw. A loud click echoed in his ears and the door shuttered open. 

“That was the puzzle? No wonder that stupid thief could figure it out.” Armandur stated aloud as he entered a large chamber. From a distant he heard echoes of chanting voices but he couldn’t sense anyone. As he got closer the voice got louder and when he touched the wall rune letter appeared in his mind much like a spell book. But this was only a single word, and while he letters were unfamiliar he knew how to pronounce them.

He heard a loud crash behind him breaking off his thoughts. Of course there was an undead guarding the treasure, and he turned to face it. This Draugr was different from the rest and a sudden burst of force knocked Armandur off the platform. He only managed to strike the draugr from a distance wary of getting closer, and slowly he break it down. When the draugr collapsed into a hep of bone, Armandur took a deep breath and steadied him self against the wall.

Then he laughed out loud, “That was a fight!” The rush of adrenaline made him feel alive. Armandur began searching the tomb for a treasure. He found a tablet with strange markings on it similar to those that had appeared in his mind but he couldn’t under stand them. So he decided to take it and do some research into them. A task to keep him from getting bored. He left the ruin in a good mood, whistling a happy tone


	4. Chapter 4

He had spent the entire day in Bleak Falls Barrow and had spent most of the night trying to get down from the cliff that he had found himself on after exiting through a secret tunnel. He rested in a hunter’s camp sharing a meal with the shrewd hunter. It was almost midmorning when Armandur was on the road again. He stopped in Riverwood to give the trader his golden claw back and sell the treasures he found. Lucan was excited to have the claw back, and he placed the claw back in its usual place, on the store’s shelf. He gave Armandur a discount which he bought more spell books and potions. Armandur felt he still wasn’t ready for the road. He had discovered that the war hammer slowed his fighting and by the end of the day was heavy in his arms. So he sold it to the blacksmith.

Armandur spent the rest of the morning by the mill carving a walking stick from wood. He listens as Gerdur order the men of the mill around bring order and efficiency to their work. Hod didn’t protest his wife’s leadership, and actually enforced it, yelling at his men when they back talked to her. Frodnar had followed Armandur watching him until he was bored then ran off. He heard a young girl squeal and Frodnar laughing not far off.

Armandur had nearly finished carving his staff by midday. He rubbed his hand over the hard oak wood, satisfied with his work. Since losing his sight he had found he enjoyed carving, feeling the wood form under his hand was amazing. He was so focussed on his carving that he didn’t notice Ralof approach, and was startled when he spoke.

“So this his what you’ve been doing all morning. May I see?” he asked. 

He held it out to him, saying, “I hope Gerdur doesn’t mind that I barrowed her axe and carving tools.”

“She has already stated that you are free to use anything of ours, Armandur,” Ralof stated as he examined the staff fingering the design at the top. “This is good work. You have a steady hand and an eye for detail. Oh I’m sorry . . . ”

Armandur laughed, “You don’t need to be sensitive about my blindness. I rather people just treats’ me like anyone else. But I appreciate the compliment, I’m rather proud of what I can do.” He held out his hand and Ralof gave him his staff. Armandur pulled his hood over his head so it covering his eyes. 

“Is that why you hide your face beneath your hood? You don’t want others to know about your blindness.”

“That one part of it. There are too many people willing to take advantage of a blind man for me to travel easily. I rather be a mage walking about. Few thieves seem willing to get roasted trying to take gold.”

“And the other part?”

Armandur turned his head and lifted his hood so he could see his milky white eyes. He began is detection spell, and Ralof gasped taking a step away from Armandur. Armandur pulled his hood down saying, “My eyes glow while the spell is active. It hard to always keep up eyelids shut to hide it especially when it doesn’t change my view.”

“Oh . . . I see.” Ralof hesitates before replying. Armandur regretted telling the Ralof knowing the Nords were very superstitious. But he felt he shouldn’t lie to the family that has been so kind to him a complete stranger. He reached behind the stump he was sitting on and shouldered the pack Gerdur had given him. Armandur felt the sun on his face figured that he had enough time to reach Whiterun and talk to the Jarl before sun down. Then find him. 

“Well, the day isn’t getting any younger, and I still have a Jarl to see. You and your family have my gratitude, Ralof.” Armandur deep bowed to Ralof as he spoke. 

He saw through his spell that Ralof had crossed his arms, “Enough. I’ve told you many times that you need not thank me. I did all this because you’re a good man, Armandur. And because I consider you a friend. You are considered a friend of this family.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, “And that doesn’t make my gratitude any less truthful, nor your aid any less honest.”

“Armandur . . . ”

“Let me just say this. If any of your family needs my aid, I vow that you will get it.” He said as he began to walk away toward the entrance to the village.

Ralof grabbed his arm stopping him in his tracks, “Don’t be a stranger Armandur. You already know that I’m your friend. So I like to think that you consider me your friend as well.”

Armandur voice caught in his throat choked by the emotions he felt, before he said, “Aye, Ralof you have my friendship.”

“Then say farewell like one,” Ralof said before hitting him on the shoulder. “Don’t disappear like you did yesterday. And tell me you’ll write or at least send a message once and a while. I’d like to hear what sort of adventure you get into.”

“Very well,” Armandur raised his hand out to Ralof. Ralof grabbed it and pulled Armandur in to embrace him in a hug thumping him on the back. 

“This is a friendly embrace, remember it.” Ralof said as he broke the embrace. “Now off you go, Armandur. Let’s go drinking again, and you can tell me more of your wild tales again.”

“Agreed. Farewell. May gods permit our next meeting. ” Armandur felt his throat tighten as he said it. He had never met a more honest or courageous man before. Since becoming blind Armandur had found himself more and more isolated from people who as soon as they learn about his blindness try to politely ignore him. Most of them just don’t want to have to deal with helping the cripple Nord. But not only did Ralof help him, he accepted that Armandur could take care of himself. Armandur wouldn’t forget that.

He left Riverwood with Ralof waving him off and a tighten in his chest as he promised that he would repay the Stormcloak one day. He listened to the tapping of his staff on stone to keep himself on road towards Whiterun. He only checked the surroundings for enemies with his spell at intervals and listened to the sounds of the woods. Since being blind he found the sounds of the world were sharper and more clear to him. He could hear the flapping of a butterfly wings or the scarping of a stags hooves. It was almost like the world was made of music to him and he always enjoyed the peace of it. 

The air was disturbed with the note of discord, and the sound of fighting. He activated the detection spell and saw a couple of people fighting a giant. Armandur didn’t move closer but sent a frost spell to freeze the giant’s feet. Taking advantage of the giants slowed movement, and the fighter redoubled their attacks.

“You won’t get the best of me,” a woman cried.

Armandur threw a fire ball at the giant head knocking the beast off its feet. A man wielding a great sword, stepped forward and severed the giant’s head from its body. Seeing that the fighting was finished, Armandur turned away and continued on his way down the path. With surprising speed the fighters caught up with him, and blocked his path. Armandur found himself face to face with a woman who radiates strength and agility. He was confused as to why she smelt of a wet dog but he dismissed it at first. But as the other fighters joined the woman, Armandur noticed that the male also smelt like dog fur. He could feel the woman’s eyes studying him. He kept his head bowed so his hood deeply shadowed his face.

“You handle yourself well. You could make for a decent Shield-Brother,” she said confidently. 

“What is a shield brother?” he asked. He had heard that word before but couldn’t place it.

“An outsider, eh? Never heard of the Companions? An order of warriors. We are bothers and sisters in honour. And we show up to solve problems if the coin is enough.” 

“Hmm, is that so. Not a bad system,” he thought then asked. “Can I join you?"

“Not for me to say,” she replied with a shrug. “You’ll have to talk to Kodlak Whitemane up in Jorraskr. The old man’s got a good sense for people. He can look into your eyes and tell your worth. If you go to him, good luck.”

“I wonder what he would see in my eyes.” Armandur thought but dismissed the idea. He had to give up fighting as a warrior since his blindness. But maybe they would accept him as a mage, he could work on his healing aiding an order of warriors. It was a thought. The Companions left him and Armandur made his way to the gates of Whiterun. 

A guard approached him calling, ““Halt! The city is closed with the dragon about. Official business only.” 

Armandur decided to take the direct approach to his reason being here and replied, “I have news from Helgan about the dragon attack.” The guard nodded, letting him through and warned him that they would keep an eye on him. Armandur heard the loud creaking of the wooden gates as they open a fraction to let him through. 

Within the stone walls of Whiterun life seemed completely normal despite the imposed locked down. People went about their business selling wares and walking calmly. They seemed confident in the protection of their walls. But from what Armandur had seen in Helgan that security would be torn away if a dragon did attack.   
Armandur decided to head straight to the keep to make the Jarl aware of the danger they were in. Heading up the stone steps to the keep he ignored the stares of the guards and walking into Dragonsreach. The hall echoed with voices arguing with each other, and Armandur paused unsure of how to proceed. 

“My lord. Please. You have to listen. I only counsel caution. We cannot afford to act rashly in times like these. If the news from Helgen is true . . . well, there's no telling what it means.”

“What would you have me do, then? Nothing?”

“My lord. Please. This is no time for rash action. I just think we need more information before we act. I just. ”

“Who's this, then?”

At this Armandur decide to approach the table and the cluster of men surround a single man in a throne. A woman, Dunmer by her body shape drew her sword and blocked his path. 

“What is the meaning of this interruption? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors” her voice was cold and threatening causing Armandur to stiffen in defense.

But he was a Nord and stood firm stating, “Gerdur sent me. Riverwood is in danger”

“As housecarl, my job is to deal with all the dangers that threaten the Jarl or his people. So you have my attention. Now, explain yourself.” 

“I was told to give the message directly to the Jarl himself.” Armandur said firmly. He had to make the jarl aware of the danger his people were in with the appearance of a dragon in Skyrim. 

She snarled under her breath at the arrogance of this Nord and said firmly, “whatever you have to say to the Jarl, you can say to me. I’m startling to think . . . ” 

The Jarl who had been listen to the exchange spoke “I want to hear what he has to say.”

Armandur waited till the housecarl sheathed her sword before walking past her and approaching he raised dialis and the throne of the Jarl. His senses could still feel the threatening bloodlust the Dunmer woman still radiated as she returned to her post. All eyes were on him and Armandur bowed to the Jarl politely.

“What this about Riverwood being in danger?” the Jarl asked confirming Armandur earlier statement. 

“A dragon destroyed Helgen. Gerdur is afraid that Riverwood is next.” Armandur replied.

“Gerdur? Owns the lumber mill, if I'm not mistaken. A pillar of the community. Not prone to flights of fancy . . . ” the Jarl said to Armandur who nodded. “And you're sure Helgen was destroyed by a dragon? This wasn't some Stormcloak raid gone wrong?”

“The dragon destroyed Helgen. And last I saw it was heading this way.” Armandur confirmed. He decided to leave out the fact that he was going to be beheaded at the time or that the Stromcloaks were there. He needed the Jarl to focus on the real threat at the moment, the dragon. 

Balgruuf turned to the smaller man beside him and said, “What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?”

The Dunmer spoke up, saying “My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains . . . ”

“The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation! He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him,” the steward reasoned. 

“Enough! Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once.”

“Yes, my Jarl,” she said and bowed leaving the dias. 

But the steward wasn’t finished, and said “We should not...”

The jarl wouldn’t heard any of it and cut him off with a firm response, “I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!” Armandur sighed with relief upon hearing that. The Jarl show he had good sense and a dedication to his people. Armandur stood waiting to be dismissed. 

He'll then turn to Armandur and said, “Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it. Here, take this as a small token of my esteem.” He reached behind his throne to a small chest and pulled out a pair of steel gloves. He handed them to Armandur who took them respectfully and felt the nordic carving in the metal as well as the hum of enchantment. 

“Thank you, Jarl.” Armandur answered placing them on his hands and felt the firmness of their leather. Armandur was glad he had kept his hood pulled low and no one had asked to see his face.

“There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps,” the Jarl said, as he stood up. “Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and... rumours of dragons.” 

Armandur followed the Jarl as he said, “Farengar is probably puttering around in his lab. Day and night. I'm not sure he ever sleeps.” The Jarl led him to a room off the main hall and introduced him to a similar robed mage. Armandur could tell that Farengar was a strong mage as his life fire swirled with the colours of magic. Armandur always wondered why he could see magic in others with his spell but it always helped him identify other mages. 

But that was pondering for another day as the court magician addressed him, “The Jarl thinks you can be of use to me? Oh yes, he must be referring to my research into the dragons. Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me. Well, when I say fetch, I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be there.”

Armandur wondered, “What does this have to do with dragons?”

“Ah, no mere brute mercenary, but a thinker - perhaps even a scholar? You see . . . ” as the mage began to ramble, Armandur stopped listening. He wasn’t a scholar, how could be when he could no longer read. But he did want to know what he was actually retrieving and how an artifact could be used against a dragon. He suspected that he was going to see a lot more of the dragon if he was going to stay in Skyrim, and he wanted to be prepared to face them.

Then the mage said something that caught his attention, “I, ah, learned of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow - a 'Dragonstone.” Armandur blinked and wordlessly reached into his pack and pulled out the tablet he had discovered in the tomb. 

Farengar saw the stone table and exclaimed, “Ah! The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow! You already found it! You are cut from a different cloth than the usual brutes the Jarl foists on me.” He took the stone like a child receiving a gift and ran a hand over the runes of the stone tablet. 

“Can you read it?” Armandur was curious to know why the runes were similar to the ones that had appeared in his mind. 

“Surely not, the rune inscribed on the tablet predates any modern script but if I cross reference it to . . . ” Farengar trailed off. 

But before Armandur could ask anything further, Irileth came charging into the room calling, “Farengar, there has a dragon sighting. You are needed by the Jarl.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Farengar, you need to come at once. A dragon has been sighted nearby.” Irileth commanded. Farengar began to excitedly ask questions from Irileth who scowled and said, “I’d take this a bit more seriously if I were you. You should come too.”

Armandur didn’t hear her, he was thinking that had the dragon already attacked Riverwood and worrying about Ralof’s family. When he didn’t move or reply Irileth grabbed his arm. She dragged him behind her saying that the Jarl wanted his presence as well. Farengar was too preoccupied went up the stairs ahead of them. She tried to pull him up some stairs he stumbled and fell. He swore as he hit the stairs, his staff clattering on the floor. 

“I apologize, I rushed . . . ” she paused mid sentence. Armandur’s hood fell back relieving his milky white eyes. Armandur swore again and pulled his hood up again. He searched the floor for his staff, the fall having disrupted his spell. Irileth moved the staff so his had touched it and he took it from her. Armandur shrugged off Irileth reaching hands and stood on his own. 

“I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t drag me around like a dog on a leash. I can walk.” Armandur said more harshly than he meant to. “This is an emergency, right? The Jarl is waiting.” 

Armandur headed up the stairs on his own with Irileth following wordlessly behind him but he could feel her eyes on him. Jarl Balgruuf was already waiting in the room above with a guard. The guard smelt heavily of sweat, metal and leather to Armandur. 

When they were all there, the Jarl addressed the guard asking him if he was from the western tower which the guard confirmed. The dragon was attacking the guard tower and Jarl began ordering Irileth to assemble the troops. Armandur clenched his staff, thinking Riverwood was southwest of Whiterun. 

“Are there any signs of smoke from Riverwood?” Armandur asked when the Jarl turned to him.

“You think the dragon attacked their first before coming here?” Jarl Balgruuf brow frowned as he said that. “It’s possible. I’ll send a scout group to confirm the village safety.”

“I would like to go with them, Jarl,” Armandur asked with a bow.

“I can’t let you. I need you to go with Irileth to the western watch tower to deal with the dragon. You’re the only one among us with any experience with dragons.” 

“Is that wise, milord? We don’t know if this man actually met a dragon. He could have just seen it from a distance. Not to mention that he just happened to already have the Dragonstone Farengar was looking for already with him.” Irileth was studying him as she said that  
.   
Armandur felt the blood rush to his head and he struggle to hold his temper, as he said, “Are you challenging the truth of my words and deeds?”

“You were just trying to leave a moment ago when there is a dragon attack,” she replied.

A snarl formed on his lips, and he lifted head so that Irileth could see his glowing eyes. His magic burned with his temper and he slammed his staff on the stone sending out sparks of fire across the floor. Irileth hand went to her sword and she prepared to draw it. 

Armandur voice was nearly a roar, “I am Armandur Thorirsson. I am a Nord of Skyrim and I fight my own battles. I witness the dragon attack and destroy Helgen. I watched men be consumed by dragon fire with their screams echoing in my ears. I felt the heat of its flames on my skin and the smell of brimstone filled my nose. And you dare say I was not there!”

“Enough. We cannot be arguing among ourselves. There is a dragon attacking killing our people at this moment. Irileth that was unjust of you to challenge his word. Thorirsson let it pass I need you two works together to fight this dragon before more lives are lost. Now go!” the Jarl commanded. Armandur held his tongue and stalked past Irileth staff hitting the stone loudly. Irileth followed but after we exited the hold Irileth grabbed hold of Armandur’s arm halting him.

Armandur tore his arm out of her hand and turned to her saying, “Do you real want to continue this because this time I will torch you.”

“I saw your eyes. You can’t see. So why did you lie?” 

“I did not lie, elf.” Armandur said temper sharping his words. “I cannot see with my eyes but I am not blind.”

“What does that mean?” she asked crossing her arms.

“What it means is . . . ” Armandur spun around, summoning fire to his hand and held it to Irileth face before she could draw her sword. “That I am not helpless. I am a mage and I have ways of fighting without sight.” There was a drawn out silence between them as the two confronted each other wills. In the end Armandur closed his hand and Irileth relaxed her hold on her weapon. 

“Gather your men. I’ll meet you at the western tower.” He said as he walked down the steps from Dragonsreach. “This needs to get done quickly. I need to return to Riverwood to make sure the people are still safe.”

He left Irileth on the step his temper burning like a forge in his veins. Armandur stopped only a moment to buy a sword from the blacksmith by the gate and stalked out of Whiterun. The sun was setting and Armandur could feel the chill of night creeping in as the warmth of sunlight disappeared. He missed seeing the sunset, and all the colours it brought to the world. But night time brought Armandur an advantage. While others struggle to see in darkness, Armandur lived in darkness and he wasn’t hindered by it.

He found the western watch tower by following the smell of smoke. Several fire burned sending smoke into the air. Armandur scanned the area with his spell looking for the life spark of the dragon. He heard the clattering of metal and Irileth men had arrived. Armandur grimaced at all the noise they made which would surely draw the attention of the dragon. He didn’t listen to Irileth as she addresses her guards, focussing on watching for the dragon.

“Spread out. Search for survivors,” Irileth ordered, stalking forward with her sword drawn. Armandur followed with the guards, spells prepared glowing in his hands. He left his staff and packs by the rock so they don’t get destroyed. 

When they reached to the destroyed tower, a guard called out to them from the doorway. Suddenly Armandur caught sight of a burning life spark in the sky that Armandur knew to be the dragon. He cried out an alarm that was echoed by the other guards. The dragon circled over head, flames licking the ground as it did a sweeping pass.

Armandur used a broken piece of the tower to protect himself from the dragon’s flames and he fired different spells at the dragon. Sparks and flames hit the dragon as he passed over head. When a frost spell hit the dragon’s wing, he cried out and landed. Armandur charged recklessly toward him but the dragon had landed on the other side of the tower. But before Armandur could reach him, the dragon grabbed a guard in his mouth and with a snap of his neck threw to broken body at Armandur feet. Armandur felt blood splatters across his face as the dragon took off again. Armandur snarled in his soul, and turned back to the dragon. He knew this wasn’t working he needed to get closer to get a stronger shot at the dragon. He looked at the tower and a dangerous thought entered his mind.

“You could die, fool.” The logical part if his mind told him. But a reckless smile spread over his face twisting his appearance. “It is the perfect day to die.”

Armandur felt the dragon beginning to circle about him. Taking the chance, he races up the broken tower to the top. He planted his feet and targeted the dragon throwing ice at the flying dragon. It was hard concentration on hitting a moving target but it was that or be roasted alive, maybe eaten alive. The dragon screamed in pain as the ice hit his flanks, slowing his movements. Armandur senses the dragon beginning to descend toward the tower. A smile formed on his lips, his body tingled with battle lust making him feel alive. 

He drew his sword that he had left on his belt, and cried, “Sovngarde awaits!” Then he leapt off the tower feeling the rush of air as he plummeted toward the dragon. Armandur hit the dragon side with his sword, driving the blade deep into the dragon neck. 

The dragon scream shock Armandur and the dragon struggled to stay aloft. Armandur held onto his sword with both hands. The dragon shook his body trying to dislodge him and thrown him to the ground. The sudden movements of the dragon broke his concentration and he was riding blind. Armandur battle lust made all his sense come alive. He could feel the dragon rough scales scrape against his arms and the trembling of the dragons limbs. A strange scent like urine filled his nose and it took Armandur a moment to identify it. It was fear. The dragon was afraid of him. This realisation snapped Armandur Focus back into place. He sent a shock spell through the sword in his hands into the dragon. The dragon’s scream deafened Armandur and they fell out of the sky. 

The fall wasn’t far but the impact threw Armandur off the dragon and he hit the ground on his back, knocking the wind out of him. Armandur struggles for long moments trying to get his lungs to breathe again. The dragon hadn’t moved since he hit the ground and Armandur heard his last dying gasps. Suddenly there was a strange rustling sound as if some thing was burning and his body was overwhelmed with a strange power that he couldn’t place. It was foreign but his body seemed to accept it. 

When he could breathe again, Armandur began laughing, a foolish grin on his face. His body ached with as the blood lust drained away. He knew his back was one big bruise and his arms bled from the dragon scales had scarped his skin raw. But he could feel his heart beating against his ribs, and his blood pounding in his ears. Armandur never felt more alive. He might have to do that again.

He heard the foot steps as guards approached him and Armandur felt him loam over him saying, “Are you alright, sir?” 

“Help me up,” Armandur said and the guard complied with his demand by pulling him up.

“I can’t believe it, you’re . . . Dragonborn,” the guard said in disbelief.

“Dragonborn? From the old tale?”

“Dragonborn slays dragons and steals their powers. That’s what you did, isn’t it? Absorbed that dragons power.”

Had he? Armandur wasn’t sure he had, he had felt like he had absorb a power but was it the dragon? But he dismissed the idea, Dragonborn were only a legend.

Suddenly someone punched him in the shoulder, “I’ve never seen a more insane action in my life. How could you even think of jumping off a tower? What if you had missed? You would be dead!”

The foolish grin returned to his face, “I knew I wouldn’t miss. I look before I leap.”

“You are blind!” Irileth exclaimed. He could feel all the eyes of the guards on him. He knew he had lost his hood while in battle and in the light of the fires his white eyes showed. He could hear muffled whispers from the guards. Armandur felt all the eyes of the guard staring at him the blind man. He could picture their looks and begin to laugh, which sparked some nervous laughter among the guards.

“Foolishness!”

“Maybe . . . but I could levitate myself so I could hit the dragon. How else was I supposed to get close to a flying dragon?”

“Wait till it landed.”

“While you and the guards get roasted alive. I wasn’t about to let more lives be lost to the dragons.”

“You could have died.”

“But I didn’t, and I must admit that was thrilling.” He was still smirking.

“Damn all you thrill seeking Nords to Oblivion! I’ll never understand you!” 

“There will be more dragons to come, and with more men experienced in dragon fighting the more likely of all of us surviving.” Armandur said his tone more serious.

“This wasn’t the one that destroyed Helgen. How do you know?” Irileth demanded.

“The dragon that attacked Helgen was more powerful that this dragon. That dragon was so full of life it shone like the sun. This one was more like a star in comparison.” Armandur explained. 

“I don’t understand you can see they’re . . . life?” 

“More like I use a life detection spell to see. I told you, I can see in other ways than with my eyes.” Armandur replied. He could feel the guard being to get nervous around him. But he shrugged, Nords would just have to get over their nervousness magic.

“At least now, we know we can kill them.” Irileth stated, excepting the explanation. She was a Dunmer so of course she had experience in magic. “I’ve been across Tamriel and seen some outlandish things. And you Armandur Thorirsson are one of them.”

“I’m just a simple Nord.”

“No, you are Dragonborn, like old Tiber Septim,” the Whiterun guard insisted. “Try shouting that will prove it.”

“Shouting?” Armandur thought, and suddenly the image of that strange word appeared in his head. He tried pronouncing the word and felt a shock wave shake the ground at his feet.

“That proves it! Only the Dragonborn can use shouting without training. You are the Dragonborn,” The guard exclaimed. The Whiterun guards began talking among themselves. 

“Dragonborn or not. I need to get moving. I still need to make sure Riverwood is alright.” Armandur said turning his back on them. 

“Your heading out like that, your hurt and covered in blood.” Irileth stated.

Armandur held up his hand letting a healing spell flow over him healing his scratched and easing the pain. “Mage, remember.”

“This needs to be reported to the Jarl.”

“And I will. After I make sure Riverwood is fine. I know a family there and I want to be sure they are safe.” Armandur said firmly. “The sooner I get that done the sooner I can report to the Jarl.”

Irileth was silent a moment before she said, “I was wrong about you, Thorirsson. Will you accept my apology?”

“Of course. You may have been rude about it but you were just worried about the truth. I did give you cause to question by ability. Which is why I don’t want it getting around that I am blind. I want to be judged on my ability not my disability.” Armandur stated, and Irileth nodded. Armandur goes to his pack when a couple of guards came forward carrying the dragons horns and claws. 

“Take these as profit of your kill, Dragonborn. Many will hear of your skill.” The guard said. “You shall be a legend. And I got to see it begin. It was an honour.”

“You place too faith in me.” Armandur replied tying the bone to his pack. They were heavier than he expected. 

“I think not. The world is changing, the dragons have returned. You are now apart of that change. You are already part of the history that is going to be written.”

Armandur didn’t know what to reply to that so he just nodded his head and began to walk down the road towards Riverwood.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun rose over the mountain and Armandur felt it was a glorious morning. Riverwood was peacefully quiet, the waterwheel of the mill creaked slowly and the smell of pine filled the air. Armandur headed to the Ralof household and knocked on the door. Gerdur answered and gasped at the sight of him.

“Armandur! You look like you’ve fought a dragon.” she exclaimed, grabbing his arm and bringing him into the house. The dragon’s blood had crusted across his face and tunic, but he hadn’t had the water to clean it. 

“Well your right about that,” Armandur replied letting Gerdur wipe his face with a wet cloth and fuss over him.

“You fought a dragon!” Frodnar cried. “Truly?”

“Killed it actually,” Armandur replied and pulled out the dragon horns from his pack and handed them to the young Nord.

“Amazing!” he said as he took the horns, and mounted them on his head growling at Armandur. Hod took the horns from his boy and examined them closely.

“There was another attack? Where?” Gerdur asked.

“Whiterun, the western watch tower was attacked. The Housecarl of Whiterun led a band of guards to fight it off. I was among them, together we managed to kill the beast.” Armandur explained glossing over most of the details. He didn’t want the family to find out about this Dragonborn tale and start treating him differently like the guards had. 

“It’s a relief to know that they can be killed. But I worry that another attack happened so close to home.” Gerdur said as she handed him a mug of warm milk. 

“The Jarl is sending a guard force to defend the village. They should be here soon.” Armandur replied, taking a sip of the milk gratefully. “I got a head start on them. I feared Riverwood had been attack before the watch tower.”

He felt Gerdur place a hand on his shoulder, “I’m grateful for your concern. And I thank you for getting the Jarl’s protection for the village.”

Armandur nearly blushed, “You and your family have given me aid when I needed it and a place in your home to sleep. It’s the least I could do.”

“Do not sell what you’ve done short. Killing a dragon isn’t like letting a friend stay the night.” Hod said. “You are too humble for a Nord.”

“It was a ...” Armandur snuffed a yawn with a hand. “A group effort. Skyrim is going to see more dragon attacks and will need to work together to protect each other.”

“That’s not likely with the civil war going on,” Hod said crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair making it creak. “With Ulfric freed the Stromcloaks are preparing to counterattack. Ralof headed back after a messenger found him.” 

“Already? He...” Armandur yawn louder and harder.

“Enough.” Gerdur commanded, “Armandur is clearly exhausted. He did just fight a dragon. You can talk about this after he gets some rest. Armandur get yourself out of those blood soaked clothes and into bed. Hod be a dear and get one of your old shirts for him to wear. Frodnar go to the well and get some more water. I need to milk the yak before work.” With that she left the house to begin the day’s work. The boy grumbled but went about his task. Hod slapped his shoulder and handed him a shirt. Armandur climbed into the empty bed and fell into a dreamless sleep surrounded by warmth.

After a restful sleep, Armandur awoke at midday. The Whiterun guards that had arrive had brought an order for him to report to the Jarl immediately. Gerdur said he was welcome to stay longer. He left a dragon horn as thanks and left with a single promise he would stop to see them whenever he was in the area. The return journey was uneventful, and he arrived in the city late afternoon. 

As he climbed the steps to the gates of Whiterun, a voice echoed across the land shaking the ground. Armandur fell to his knees clasping his hands over his sensitive ears. The cry had nearly deafened him, leaving his ears ringing and his head pounding causing his vision to blur. 

“By the Eight! What in Oblivion was that?” he cursed who ever voice it was. He recognised the call as a Shout, similar to what he manage to accomplice that night. But unlike before he couldn’t understand the word.   
Armandur picked himself up and snarled, “No consideration for anyone else. If I meet the one who did that they are going to get a piece of my mind or a kick to the groin.”

He was ushered in by the guards and directed to the Jarl who sat in throne. Armandur was too distracted by his own thoughts to hear the Jarls conversation. Then a large man, a warrior by the shape of his life flame, approached him and said “We were just talking about you. My brother needs a word with you.” 

Armandur frowned as the warrior addressed him like he was familiar to him, but Armandur was sure he had never spoken to the man. He could remember voices well and this man had never been introduced to him. He was going to ignored him then he caught the words ‘brother’. So Armandur gave a slight nod of his head before standing before the Jarl. 

“So what happened at the tower?” Jarl Balgruuf asked without any ceremony. 

“I am sure, Irileth gave you a full report.”

“Yes, I had confidence in her skills. But I heard the men say you can Shout naturally without training. Is it true?” the Jarl leaned forward pressing for details. 

“I don’t know how, but I can Shout.”

“So it’s true the Grey Beards were summoning you.”

“Grey Beards? A summoning?” Armandur was confused. 

“Didn’t you hear the thundering sound as you returned to Whiterun? That was the voice of the Grey Beards summoning you to High Hrothgar,” the Jarls brother supplied. The Jarl enthusiastically talked about the Grey Beards and the Pilgrims path up the mountain. 

Armandur scowled and thought, “My ears are still ringing from that call. These men who I have never seen are summoning me to them. And they live isolated on top of a mountain that they seem to expect me to climb. Just because they say so. Not bloody likely.”

Then the steward spoke up catching Armandur attention, as he said, “Capable as he may be I don’t see any signs of him being this Dragonborn.” And Armandur inwardly agreed with him. But before he could speak the Jarl’s brother spoke up and began arguing with the steward over tradition. The Jarl ended their argument effectively and apparently the pair often wasn’t disagreed on. 

The Jarl addressed Armandur, “You better get up to High Hrothgar immediately. There’s no refusing the summons of the Grey Beards. It’s a tremendous honour.”

Armandur didn’t feel honoured, thinking, “They are going to meet the back of fist more like. If they are so interested in meeting me then they can get off their mountain and find me. There are things I have to do.”   
But aloud Armandur merely said, “As you say, Jarl. If I am to be excused.” He took a step back to leave but was stopped by a hand gesture from the Jarl. 

Then the Jarl stood, “Ha, and not a word of reward or glory. Thorirsson you are a man worthy of honouring. You have done a great service for me and my city. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It is the greatest honour within my power to grant. I assign Lydia as a personal Housecarl and this weapon from my armoury to serve you as your badge of office.”

“You honour me, Jarl Balgruuf.” Armandur replied and internally wished he could have missed this honour. Thane was a responsibility he could do without. He thought the Jarl was a cunning man. With a simple axe and a few words he had bond Armandur to his service and to the protection of the city. He presented Armandur with an axe from his belt and Armandur took it with a bow. The weapon hummed with enchantment and Armandur felt a cold tingle beneath his fingertips. But Armandur knew he couldn’t refuse without offending the Jarl and he hooked the weapon to his belt. 

The Jarl turned back to his steward to address the next problem. Clearly dismissed, Armandur stepped back and nearly ran into Farengar who stepped up to congratulate him with an arm pumping hand shake.

“I’ve heard nothing but your name on the lips of the guards today. Dragonborn, that is astounding! Or perhaps Dovahkiin is a more accurate title. Anyway, are the legends about the Dragonborn true? Did you really absorb a dragon’s soul? What did it feel like?” Farengar bore down on Armandur with his questions.

Armandur held up his hand to stop Farengar string of questions, and said simply, “Perhaps it would be best if we sat down and discussed this over a meal. Then I can answer your question comfortably. I also have some questions of my own about the legends of Dragonborn.”

“Right, of course! We’ll sit in my work room.” He gestured towards the room off the main hall. “Gerda! Gerda! Bring us some food and drink!” The older servant nodded her head before laying aside the broom and heading towards the kitchen. Farengar strode onto the room and sat at his work bench. Armandur sat across from him, and allowed himself to relax his spell. Armandur always found he had to be on constant guard in the city watching unlike in the wilds he could rely on his other senses to take over.

“To answer your first question. Yes, I can absorb Dragon soul. Or at least I did so last night. But I can’t describe the feeling I got because it happened too fast for me to really take note.” 

“Shame. It would have been useful to know more about a dragon soul. So little information exist about dragon physical and mental physiology.” Farengar shifted through papers on his desk and Armandur heard him pick up one as it crinkled in the air. Armandur sighed and hoped his nod would be suffice an answer. 

“Most people merely talk about what kind of destruction they committed. A dragon burn down my village. A dragon froze my grandfather to the mill. On and on.” Farengar began to rant throwing his hands up. “No physical description of scale colour or the horns type.”

Armandur suddenly felt Farengar really close to him leaning on the table to look at him. Armandur turned his head so Farengar couldn’t see under his hood. 

“You’ve seen two dragons. Describe them for me.”

Armandur swallowed, as he thought, “Seen is stretching things a bit. I can’t rightly tell him I couldn’t see the colour of the dragons because I can only see in life colours.” He wanted to keep the fact that he was blind from the mage. The mages that he met try to prevent him from using magic after they learn he was blind. 

So he asked instead, “Is it really more important to know what colour a dragon is than what type of power they wield?” 

“Actually I have a theory. That the colour of dragon scale depicts what kind of power they wield. And if people could identify what kind of dragon is attacking them then…”

“They can counter with it weakness. Such as last night’s dragon he breathed fire and was weak to frost.” Armandur finished realising Farengar thought.

“Exactly! You’re quite the scholar, Thorirsson.” Farengar stated. “As Dragonborn I sure you will meet more dragons. And I hope you will supply me with your encounters to further my research.”

“And I will. This is a potentially useful for people’s protection.” Armandur said as he thought. “Even if I have to ask people around me to tell me its colour.”

“But unfortunately last night was too dark for me to describe the dragon accurately. If I have to kill another dragon and will be sure to inform you of the experience. But perhaps in the mean time you can exam the bones of the dragon we killed last night. I only took the claws and horns. Most of the bones are still by the watch tower.”

“An excellent proposal.” Farengar stood up grabbing some parchment and charcoal he rushed out of the room leaving Armandur alone before he could say another word. 

Armandur sighed and said, “I didn’t even get a chance to ask him any questions.’ The older servant chose that moment to deliver a small meal and two cups of mead. So Armandur ate in silence in the empty room.

Before he could finish he heard someone step up behind him, and he reacted just in time to feel a hand reaching out to grab his hood. He caught the wrist, halting the hand advance and when it tried to pull away gave it a warning squeeze. 

“What do you want?” Armandur asked voice low and hard as ice. Armandur pushed the wrist away forcing the person to step back as he stood up. He reactivated his spell and discovered a woman standing before him. Her life flame glowed strong, showing her to be a warrior. 

“I thought you were blind?” the woman said, confusion lining her tone. 

“And who told you that?” Armandur asked. He stepped back as she leaned towards him trying to look under his hood and grabbed his staff to fend her off.

“Irileth”

“Of course,” he thought grimly, then asked. “And who are you?”

“I am Lydia, your Housecarl.”


	7. Chapter 7

“No.”

Lydia confusion made her tilt her head slightly, hand on her hip just inches from her sword. 

“No, I don’t need a Housecarl. I don’t even have a house.” Armandur stated, as he thought. “Even if I did I wouldn’t want some strange woman I don’t even know living in it.” 

“That’s fine. I currently live in the barracks.” Lydia said in a pleasant tone. “You should be able to find me here at Dragonsreach when you need me.”

“If,” Armandur thought as he shook his head. “I still don’t need a Housecarl.” He made a move to step around her towards the entrance. Lydia held out her shield arm blocking his way. Armandur frowned at her, lifting his hood so she could see his glowing eyes, hope it would scare her away.

But Lydia stood her ground and said, “You have been given the title as Thane for your heroic deed of killing the dragon. You have also been called the Dragonborn. But your blindness will inhibit you and you will need the aid of a loyal follower to help you.”

“People will always continue to judge you on that,”Armandur told himself as he felt his temper raising.

He studied the young warrior with his spell, judging her actions. Armandur had begun judging a person’s emotions based on their life flame because it was hard to see their expressions with his spell. He had realized that people could smile with their soul. Different emotions colored the edges of a soul flame. Lydia soul flame was edge with the color of white and amber, which signified a mix of confusion and nervousness. 

“And you are that loyal follower? You would swear fealty to me. A outsider who you have never met. What if I’m a cannibal and I worshiped the Lady of Decay? Would you still be loyal to me?” Armandur argued. 

Lydia tensed, coloring a shade of pink for uncertainty. But before she could speak Armandur continued, “And what do I know of you? How do I know you will be loyal and not take bribes of others?”

“I would never!” Lydia shouted angrily. Shade of green tinted the flame showing her stress and outrage. 

Able to judge her character now Armandur decided to go for the final blow, “What I know from you is that you are curious and adventurous. You have a strong moral code following the nordic ways. You have dedicated yourself to the Jarl and to Whiterun. But rising in the ranks is difficult and even harder for a nordic woman. So you jump at the chance of being a Housecarl. You would gain respect with minimal responsibilities.” 

Lydia stepped back from him in stunned silence. Armandur used his staff to brush her out his path and said, “Call yourself my housecarl, but do not expect me to call on your service.” 

She angrily grabbed the staff and cried out, “How do you know any of that? We’ve barely met!” 

Armandur stared at her again, “My point exactly. But I know this because I use the mind the divines have given me. Now kindly let go of my staff. There are tasks for me to complete.” 

Lydia let go of his staff and Armandur walked out of Dragonsreach. He felt the warrior woman follow him through Whiterun. He decided to ignore her as he picked up more supplies and traded the dragon bones for gold. In the apothecary when he was gently stirring a potion mixture, Lydia spoke again.

“How do you know which ingredient to use?” she sounded curious. Mixing potions was a calming activity for Armandur and his earlier temper had dissipated. So Armandur decided to educate the Nord of her ignorance. 

He handed her the stem of a purple mountain flower, and asked “What is this?” 

Lydia took the stem and said, “It’s the stem of a plant.”

“Which plant?” Armandur continued to stir his mixture.

“I can’t tell, its just a stem” Lydia answered with a huff. Armandur handed her the stem of a red mountain flower and asked, “And this?”

“It’s just another stem of the same plant.”

“No it is not. Both of these are mountain flowers but have extremely different properties when mixed in a potion. Confusing the two can cause unknown effects in a potion.” Armandur explained. 

“But there are no petals. There is no way to tell which one is which. ” Lydia said. Armandur heard the apothecary woman hide a short laugh as a cough. 

Armandur took the stems again, and said with certainty, “This is red and this is purple.”

“Your making that up.” Lydia said crossing her arms. Armandur stood up and handed the stems to Arcadia who confirmed the same identity of each stem. Armandur then placed the stems back in Lydia’s hands, saying, “Try again without using your eyes.”

Hesitantly Lydia smelt the two stems, “One smells different from the other.”

“Yes. Taste, touch, scents. There is more than one way to identify an object. The divine created us with a nose, a tongue, a pair of ears and a pair of hands. We are expected to use them. Not just our eyes.” 

“And that’s how you...” Lydia left the sentence trail in her embarrassment.

Armandur confronted her, “I am not helpless or invalid. My skills are very different from yours but I wield them with efficiency. So don’t think yourself superior to another just because they are different from you. But you should know that already because Irileth has been your teacher in combat.”

“Yes ... I ... how?” Lydia stuttered. 

“Irileth is the Housecarl of Dragonsreach. Of course she is the instructor of the house defense forces.” Armandur stated.

“Well, yes. That is true.”

“Good. Now would you be so kind as to stop following me. I am going to get a meal and bed at the inn tonight. Thank you.” Armandur asked as he walked away. He was thankful when she didn’t follow him. 

He followed his nose and ears to find the noisy inn. A couple of Nord warriors set themselves up with drinks and were celebrating a another good hunt. Armandur took his meal in his room away from the loud Nord crowd, but his sensitive ears heard every laugh and joke. Armandur sighed and wished he could block his other senses as easily as he stopped his spells. He crawled into the bed and rapped himself in the furs. Despite his tiredness he couldn’t sleep until the last of the drinkers left and the innkeeper went to sleep. Then he fell into a restless sleep with the firm decision that he would leave at first light. 

The sound of chopping wood awoke Armandur, and he had found the room warm with the morning sun. It was long pass dawn but Armandur decided to have a meal before he left. It was midmorning before Armandur reached the gates of Whiterun. Lydia stood by the gates waiting with her weapons in hand. Armandur cursed his tardiness and strode up to the gate ignoring the woman. 

Lydia confronted him stating, “I want to prove that I am worthy enough to be your Housecarl.” Armandur looked at her to find her life flame tinted with purple, the color of purpose.

“And how will you do that?” Armandur turned his head to the side. 

“Allow me to accompany you on your journey. My fighting skills will be of use against the bandits and beasts of the road. I do want to aid you.” Lydia said sincerely and showed her shield.

“And I still don’t trust you enough to allow you to travel with me.” Armandur stated firmly.

“Then how can I prove my worth to you?” Lydia glowed with confusion and frustration.

Armandur could see that Lydia’s pride wouldn’t allow her to let this go and she was stubborn enough to follow him even if he forbid her to. So he decided to give her a task. 

“You can complete some tasks for me.” Armandur said and Lydia looked directly at him with hope. “First you need to track any rumors or whispers of dragons in the area. If you do find a dragon, speak to Irileth about protection for that area. Also note the color and horn shape of any dragon you see and inform Farengar of your findings.”

“That is, but...”

“These are important tasks. To Whiterun and to the people of Skyrim. This isn’t about the strength of a arm but the dedication to a task.” Armandur interrupted. 

Lydia stared at him a moment then bowed her head and said, “These tasks will be done as you asked my Thane.”

“If I find you have done these tasks when I return I will consider you my Housecarl and buy a house that you can reside in.” Armandur confirmed. “Now day light is waning and I have far to travel. Good day, Lydia.”

“Safe travels, my Thane.” Lydia said respectfully and bowed deep allowing Armandur to pass. 

Armandur walked out of Whiterun rather pleased with himself. The task he had given Lydia will make sure that Ralof’s family would stay safe, and Farengar will have the information he needs for his theories. And he could focus on his goals instead of all this Dragonborn nonsense. 

Feeling the sun on his face, he coordinated himself towards the North, and began tracking along a path in that direction. The smells and sounds of nature greeted him and Armandur took a deep breath. 

“This is the life. A road of adventure before me, and loose of the ties that held me down.” Armandur thought. “And I will find him. Even if I have to search all of Skyrim.”


End file.
